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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28806051">champagne problems</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/beantow/pseuds/beantow'>beantow</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, betrayal hehe, but i want to see if people like it? and maybe ill continue writing it into a larger piece, spy AU, this is a one shot, yes it's based on the song from taylor swift's evermore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:08:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,672</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28806051</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/beantow/pseuds/beantow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The worst part of this all wasn’t the act of betrayal or the pain she felt. No, the worst part of it was the part of her that missed Adora, the part that, if Adora walked through the door right now, would not hesitate to leap into her arms. It was absolutely humiliating. She was better than this. She didn’t need her. She didn’t want her. Not anymore.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adora/Catra (She-Ra)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>champagne problems</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hey y'all! so i wrote this scene as a writing sample, but i actually kind of like how it turned out? i wanted to put it out here and see how people felt about it, because if it's well received, maybe i'll adapt it into a longer work. i suppose we'll see. this specific scene is based on taylor swift's "champagne problems" because im a simple simple person who loved her work and is hoping to write a series of one-shots based on some of her songs.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Catra shed her velvet jacket onto the floor and stepped outside onto the balcony. The cool tiles provided some reprieve for her poor feet which had just endured a few hours in heels. She walked towards the edge and leaned her forearms on the railing as she twirled the champagne glass between her thumb and forefinger. Below her, a lively city celebrated yet another Christmas Eve, sprinkled with light snow to complete the scene. It was an objectively beautiful view, what with all the lights bouncing off the windows that adorn the skyscrapers of the city. They paid a lot to live in this apartment, but she did love living here, and she’d miss it dearly soon. At least she’d have this place to herself for the next week and get to soak in the good bits of the past year.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of traffic ten floors below echoed all the way up between the tall buildings, almost loud enough to drown out her inner monologue. Almost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A golden shimmer from the glass caught her eye. She held it from the bottom of the stem and let it pivot in her fingers, until one last drop of the champagne collected at the rim. She tapped it gently with her fingernails, just enough to set it loose and letting it fall freely all the way down to the streets below.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A waste of damn good champagne, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she might’ve said a few hours ago. But a few hours ago, she had her life together, she had a girlfriend, and she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>happy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And yet a nagging voice itched at her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it was right. Maybe she had always known, but had chosen to ignore it anyways. She hadn’t had to challenge her perception of it all until tonight, when it was right in her face and she couldn’t pretend anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>How had she lasted this long in life if she let herself get distracted so easily?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was all over now. Everything she had ever worked for, all the blood and sweat she poured into her life was flushed away, and there was nothing she could do to get any of it back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She almost wanted to applaud the mastermind behind the genius plan. Did they get what they were looking for? Did they succeed in whatever mission they were executing? Was she simply a pawn in this elaborate game of espionage chess? A part of her wanted to pick up her phone and call her now-ex to get more details about this whole...ordeal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What had she done to deserve any of this?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her shoulders slouched and she leaned over the railing, staring down at the rushing traffic below. Perhaps her foster parent was right. Maybe she was destined for nothing but failure, and maybe she should’ve accepted it a long time ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What was she feeling? Anger? Grief? Was she feeling anything at all? There were a lot of things she should’ve been feeling, but she wasn’t feeling any of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned and looked into their apartment. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Her</span>
  </em>
  <span> apartment, she corrected. The once-cheerful streamers and party poppers were little but depressing strewn about the floor. Her friends had always told her to add a little color to the apartment, to add a little cheer to it. Funny. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The chill of the winter air was starting to numb her face as well, especially where the snowflakes landed. The cold stung her cheeks, biting into the skin enough to make its presence known. She closed her eyes and before she knew it, a familiar melody escaped between her lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Their song.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It had taken nearly a decade before she had finally been able to share it with anyone. And of course, it had been </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> who had convinced her to let her guard down, to set the song free, to open her heart again. None of her other songs were written with the same intent or with even half the emotional honesty that one held.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The day she’d breathed the song to life was also the first day she’d mustered enough courage to finally say </span>
  <em>
    <span>I love you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Adora had said it back. Had she meant it, or was it just a part of the plan?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catra remembered how Adora had smiled when she walked over to the piano and started stroking the keys, chords that were shaky at first but grew confident as Adora had nodded, urging her to continue. It was the first time in her entire singing career she felt she was sharing her real voice. For someone who was so </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrible</span>
  </em>
  <span> at acting, Adora had done a </span>
  <em>
    <span>great</span>
  </em>
  <span> job acting like she loved her. How could someone that helped her find her voice be the same person who had taken it away so easily?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She opened her eyes and exhaled, her warm breath smoky against the chilly air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ten floors up. It was enough, wasn’t it? It would be a shame if something went wrong if she tried now, but given her luck, she wouldn’t put it past the universe. It’s not like there was anyone left in the entire universe who cared about her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The worst part of this all wasn’t the act of betrayal or the pain she felt. No, the worst part of it was the part of her that </span>
  <em>
    <span>missed</span>
  </em>
  <span> Adora, the part that, if Adora walked through the door right now, would not hesitate to leap into her arms. It was absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>humiliating.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She was better than this. She didn’t need her. She didn’t want her. Not anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A gust of wind blew over her, sending shivers down her entire body. She slid open the glass door and pulled her jacket back on, reminding herself that it was only practical to do so. Just as she stepped out again, there was a singular, lone knock on her door. Catra ignored it and walked back into the balcony. Whoever needed her could call her later. She wasn’t in the mood to socialize right now, not unless it was a matter of life and death, and even then…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She watched a tiny snowflake drift down onto her shirt, where it lingered for a second or two before melting. She brushed another few snowflakes off of her shirt and carefully smoothed out the few wrinkles on her jacket by her shoulders where Adora had held her briefly. It was then that she noticed the white light from across the street, tucked between a pillar and a fuse box on the rooftop of the Hilton property.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catra couldn’t help but give a dry chuckle. Of course someone was waiting. Of course having her out on the balcony was part of the plan. Who did she think she was, to be able to have a moment to herself in the privacy of her own home? Adora moved quickly, she couldn’t deny it. She was good at her job. Too good. She took a step forward, rested her arms on the railings, and puffed out her chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Do it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Was there anything left for her? How could she have believed she could ever be deserving of love? So much of her life had been spent trying to feel needed so she’d have a reason to stay, and now, all she wanted was to be wanted so she’d get the choice to stay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her heart clenched when she heard the shot, and for a moment she believed it was over, but her shoulders dropped at the shattering of glass behind her and she made no attempt to move. What cruel joke was the universe playing now? She was a sitting duck who had spotted the hunter; what were they waiting for? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another knock came from the front door, this time a little sharper and louder than before. She ignored it again, instead staring at her champagne glass and twirling it between her fingers again. A red laser shined directly onto the glass and slowly shifted to her chest, right over her heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catra froze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She twirled the champagne glass again, watching the light from her apartment bounce around the surface closely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d accepted the glasses from Adora without a second thought, but now that she thought about it, she wondered where in the world Adora had been able to acquire such perfect quality glass. Such glass was precious and wasn’t wasted for commoner’s items like champagne glasses; no, it was usually saved for much more important reasons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A thought popped into her head like a little parasite, but she squeezed her eyes shut and chased it away. This was no time for hoping. This was no time for turning back. She had made her choice, and she was going to have to live with it. Or, well, die with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What was taking the sniper so long? Even a bolt-action rifle would’ve been reloaded by now, and this one was clearly more advanced. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a few moments, she let the parasite take hold of her mind and let it fester. What if...no, there was no chance. It wasn’t possible, not in a million years. Not for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Regardless of what she wanted, though, the thought lingered much longer than she intended to let it, and Catra found herself turning to enter the apartment to test out her theory, clutching onto a sliver of hope that had crawled out of the darkest corner of her mind. Hope did strange things to a person. It made people act irrationally, act in ways that went against the chaotic nature of the universe, but worst of all, it made people regret the very things they were so ready to embrace moments before it took control. Letting herself hope was what had gotten herself into this mess; clearly, she had learned nothing from the events of the night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the second shot finally came, Catra wasn’t sure of what she was feeling regretful, but by that point, it was too late, and only gravity was in control of her and her champagne glass now. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>if y'all enjoyed, please leave kudos and/or a comment! i want to hear from y'all! i want to know if y'all love the ideas i have for these two! thanks for reading, folks!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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